Gergiev's Венский филармонический оркестр

Trifonov encores: Chopin, Grande valse brillante; Bach/arr. Rachmaninov, Gavotte from the Partita in E for violin Rimsky-Korsakov: Suite from the opera 'The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevroniya'Rodion Shchedrin: Concerto for Orchestra no. 1 'Naughty Limericks'

The Musikverein was just a pit stop for the Wiener Philharmoniker this
weekend; Valery Gergiev (who else?) had them schlep this all-Russian programme
around Germany earlier in the week and immediately after Sunday morning’s concert
the orchestra flew to Oman, where this evening they have been performing at the
recently opened Royal Opera House in Muscat. I had no idea about Oman until today,
when curiosity drove me to find out why my stats were showing so many searches from that country leading to this. Wikipedia informs us that Oman is ‘described
as "one of the most advanced countries in the Persian Gulf region
as far as women's rights are concerned"’ and that seems borne out by questions such as ‘why are there no women in the Vienna Philharmonic?’ (as one of my Omani Googlers phrased it). As what remains of the liberal-left consolidates the removal of restrictions to opportunity, institutions such as the Vienna Philharmonic will increasingly stand out for their apparent upholding of gender, racial and cultural divides, and now that the citizens of an Arab League state – without wishing to belittle Oman, quite the contrary – are putting the official cultural ambassador of a supposedly enlightened Western nation to shame, we see just how precarious the orchestra’s position, assuming it continues, will one day be, and if not imminently then perhaps sooner than they think.

And yet women or no women, this concert was a thoroughly good one bar some minor unpleasantness best dealt with first. My experience with the Philharmonic has shown that the drill of
performing a programme on tour doesn’t necessarily rid the playing of
Schlamperei, and this concert saw a few egregious instances – though better
that than a performance infested with dozens of irritating and totally avoidable
lazy slips. Irritating for being totally avoidable probably goes to
the crux of the matter here; being resident in Vienna and a Philharmonic regular, I appreciate why Mahler got so exasperated. Anyway,
one of the horns played the mother of all split notes in the first bar of the
Chaikovsky, on the second note (so on the beat and very noticeable). Heads were shaken and one man muttered ‘typisch!’,
which shows that there are at least some amateur hour episodes even the
Viennese aren’t prepared to indulge. One note should not be blown out of proportion, particularly given the exposed and exceptionally loud start, but what the Philharmonic would call ‘lesser’ orchestras are professional enough not to allow this to happen with such alarming regularity and indeed the Phil’s brass have
a recent history of extreme carelessness, prompting the cutting remark ‘can’t their horns just
learn how to play?’ from a friend a few months ago. And right at the beginning, undermining the performance before it has
even started; so incrediblydispiriting, as accidental
as the slip may be. Exactly the same thing occurred in the first chord of the
Thielemann Götterdämmerung in November – yes, they did it to Götterdämmerung,
is nothing heilig? – which was among the many depressing reasons I chose not to
write about it.

Back to the Chaikovsky concerto, and happier things to report: there were a couple more horn slips (not quite as
bad), but the players redeemed themselves somewhat in the slow movement, with some of
that magnificently rich liquid ambrosia sound they are capable of producing. There
was barely a bump in the signature lushness of the strings too; it’s been a
while since I last heard their playing sound so seamless and homogenous. But musically
there was more going on than upholstery you could sink into – Gergiev’s incessant
caressing of whatever furry animal is in his imagination led to a wealth of sharply
observed details and phrasing carefully directed towards a satisfying broader formal consolidation. It can be a risky strategy to draw attention to how unusually the exposition of this first movement is structured – better to leave manifestly classically conceived sleeping dogs lie – and an interesting open-endedness arose towards the end, sympathetic in many ways to what soloist Daniil Trifonov was trying to achieve, and, hitting an elusive Viennese trifecta, carried along with remarkable sensitivity and unity of thought by the Philharmonic. Having taken on board Charles Rosen’s debunking I tend to keep a wide berth of
international competitions, but the ITC is a special case and there can be
little doubt that Trifonov, should he ever get the chance to broaden his
repertoire amidst the snowstorm of engagements the competition has bestowed,
will be a formidable pianistic presence for many years to come. Touch and
phrasing show a wisdom beyond his years, and struck me as something like the
splicing of Gilels and Richter – ambitious by any reckoning, though Trifonov pulled off the improbable without disappointing, or making
many compromises. Over time he may well offer a more characterful performance
of this concerto and take a few more risks, but for that rare balance of flair
and sensitivity I think that among the current crop of Russian pianists he
beats even the woefully underrated Boris Berezovsky. Trifonov was a little
nervous around the orchestra, and though nothing happened he did appear unsure
of his way at a few points (this occurred to me more later, when he added a few
beats – well recovered on each occasion – to his Bach/Rachmaninov encore). But I
imagine that when making a concerto debut there aren’t many orchestras more daunting than
the Philharmonic.

The Chaik was preceded by Prokofiev’s Classical symphony, played
precisely and with slightly more lightness than is typically the case. The
sound gradually acquired greater brilliance at moments when that was effective
and while there was a gaping disparity in tempo between the big pile-up of A
major that closes the exposition and what came before, from a theorist’s
perspective I liked how Gergiev subverted the idea of ‘essential expositional
closure’ that this movement all too unimaginatively typifies. But first movement
tempi in general did seem rather too carefully measured and close even to torpor. By contrast the third movement
zipped along nicely, with the strings and winds responding well to Gergiev’s
cues (according to Wilhelm Sinkovicz he is a conductor they don’t get on with,
but I could hear no evidence of it).

The Rimsky-Korsakov Kitezh suite was simply beautiful, the sound carefully weighed in
every moment and full of interesting colours. Rapidly darting, gauzy textures
in the strings gently cushioned some exquisite solos in the winds in the first and
final movements, and while some wind intonation problems intruded in the second
movement, the strings and brass forged on to the end, intensifying the drama
and then scaling back with poise. My knowledge of Rimsky-Korsakov’s operatic output
is pretty poor – I’m very bad at listening to what Richard Taruskin says I
should – and this performance reminded me that I need to explore further.

The Shchedrin – a short piece in the vein of
Shostakovich’s Jazz Suites – didn’t make much of an impression despite the Philharmonic treating it in the right spirit. It was only a
way for Gergiev to programme something this subscription audience doesn’t
usually permit in the second half (an encore), but ending with the Rimsky-Korsakov would
have been wiser.